An Unforgiving Spirit
by Katarena
Summary: "Good evening. You're probably wondering what this is about, aren't you? Well, this is about karma."
1. Chapter 1

**An Unforgiving Spirit**

**Part One**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

The taller one wakes up first. It takes him a moment to realise he's restrained to a chair. He struggles, but he's not going anywhere. Under normal circumstances, I'd be blown away by how gorgeous he is – dark floppy hair, powerful build and deep brown eyes. But…well, these aren't normal circumstances.

I can't believe I was actually lucky enough to drug both of them at the same time. I'd prefer pointing a shotgun at them, but I don't actually own a shotgun and Dad would hate it if I 'borrowed' his. Although there would be a certain poetic justice if I did just that.

Since _they_ have guns, I've certainly got a choice of weapons. I'm not actually going to _use_ them, of course. But they don't know that.

Hiding in their motel room wasn't easy. Fortunately, they didn't think to check for monsters under the bed.

Oh, the other one's awake. They're both glaring at me, making angry noises through the gags.

I smile brightly at them. "Good evening. You're probably wondering what this is about, aren't you?"

They're both tied to chairs placed back-to-back. Both men weigh a _ton_; my shoulders are still aching from moving them.

I really hope they aren't going to be sick. They shouldn't be. I picked drugs that don't have that particular side effect.

"Well, this is about karma."

They don't look confused. Instead, they stare at me with wary, uneasy eyes.

My hands are in my pockets, so they won't see I'm trembling.

"My name is Miss Weiss. I believe you've had the pleasure of meeting my parents."

**To be continued…?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

"_My name is Miss Weiss. I believe you've had the pleasure of meeting my parents."_

They look confused. Floppy Hair glances at his friend, then back to me again. He looks like he really doesn't know what I'm talking about.

"They owned a fulgarite crystal. Does that jog your memory?"

Apparently, it does. Their eyes widen in realisation and shock. Green Eyes looks down at the zip ties holding his wrists, then back up at me.

"Nice touch, isn't it?" I gesture towards the zip ties. "Oh, do you like the dishtowel? I got it just for you. You're the one I _really_ wanted to have a word with. But seeing as how your friend was with you, I figured he deserved to be part of this as well."

I walk right up to Green Eyes. "First thing's first."

Then I slap him on the side of his head, as hard as I can. His head flies to the side and he gives a muffled grunt of pain.

I put my hands on my knees and lean in close, so that I'm looking directly into his eyes.

"I've been waiting over two years to do that. Just in case you hadn't figured it out, that was for pointing a shotgun at Mum and Dad and then tying them up."

_Nobody_ does that to my family and gets away with it.

**To be continued…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

"…_Just in case you hadn't figured it out, that was for pointing a shotgun at Mum and Dad and then tying them up."_

_**Nobody**_ _does that to my family and gets away with it._

"Don't worry," I say, walking around so that I'm facing both of them. "I'm not going to hit either of you again. I really want to, though, and God knows you deserve it."

Green Eyes makes muffled noises again.

"Oh, do you want me to take the gags off?" I fold my arms and smirk at him. "Well, Mum and Dad probably weren't too keen on being gagged either, but you didn't exactly give a damn about that, did you? Also, removing your gags means I'd have to listen to what you have to say, and quite frankly, I'm not interested. My parents didn't get a chance to talk. You don't either. That's fair – wouldn't you agree?"

I'm beginning to feel angry. It's licking at my insides like cold fire.

"Did tying up two defenceless people make you feel like a big strong man?" I ask him. "Well, here's a little newsflash – you're not a big strong man. You're repulsive and you disgust me. And you…" I say, turning my gaze to Floppy Hair, "…didn't have a problem with what he was doing. Mum told me you didn't even protest. So you're just as bad as he is."

Without taking my eyes off either of them, I pull up another chair and sit down.

"If you're both sitting comfortably, I'd like to tell you a little story."

They're going to hear it if they're comfortable or not.

**To be continued…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

"_If you're both sitting comfortably, I'd like to tell you a little story."_

_They're going to hear it if they're comfortable or not._

"I kept telling Mum and Dad that the house needed to be more secure. But no, Dad said a break-in wasn't going to happen. All the expensive things were protected and safe, and besides they had Mark to patrol the place." I grin. "They weren't very safe from _you_, were they?"

I'm thirsty. I want a glass of water really badly, but there's no way I'm leaving these two by themselves.

"Mum called me more often just to check that I was all right, but that wasn't unusual. She told me that it's a mother's priority to know her children are safe. I didn't even know something had happened. But then I called my sister to tell her that I was planning on paying a surprise visit. She's still living at home – she wasn't there when you broke in, thank God – and she warned me that Dad had started drinking. A _lot_. In fact, he was getting drunk pretty much every night."

I clench my fists. My nails are digging into my palms.

"She told me Mum was acting strangely too. She'd become completely paranoid. Every evening she would check the house, making sure everything was locked up and that nobody could get in through the doors or the windows."

They're not looking away from me. In fact, they're watching me like I'm saying something that actually matters to them.

"My sister was scared. This had come completely out of nowhere. She didn't know what to do."

I lean forward in the chair. "But that's not all she told me. She said that Mum would wake up in the middle of the night _screaming_."

**To be continued…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

**WARNING:** Dark themes.

"…_that's not all she told me. She said that Mum would wake up in the middle of the night __**screaming**__."_

"She didn't know why. Mum wouldn't tell her. Neither would Dad, but it's not like you notice loud noises when you've practically drunk yourself into a coma."

I clear my throat loudly. "I saw the change in Mum right away when I got home. She'd lost a lot of weight and she looked pale. Gaunt. You know what I mean?"

They both nod.

I describe Mum in greater detail. I talk about the bags under her eyes. Her anxious expression as she glanced at the shadows. The fear in her eyes when it started getting dark.

"She'd barely leave the house. Dad would get out a lot more often, but he'd only go to the local liquor store. And yes, Mum really was screaming in the night."

I remember she would come running every time she heard me or my sister cry after a nightmare.

"Then I found a bottle of sleeping pills on her bedside table. When I talked to my sister, she said Mum had been taking pills for a while now. Trouble is, they clearly weren't working, so Mum took a little more than the prescribed dose. In fact, it was quite a lot more than the prescribed dose."

My sister screamed for help when she found out Mum wouldn't wake up. She'd never sounded more terrified.

I force myself not to cry. I don't want to show any sign of weakness in front of them.

"They only just got her to hospital in time. The first overdose of sleeping pills was an accident – the second one? Probably not."

I don't think I've ever hated anyone as much as I hate the two people in front of me right now.

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

_I don't think I've ever hated anyone as much as I hate the two people in front of me right now._

"It's funny, isn't it? You couldn't even remember my mother, and she took two overdoses trying to forget you."

Don't cry, I tell myself. Do _not_ cry.

"You've probably hurt a lot of people, haven't you? People who did nothing to deserve it, or to deserve _you_. You just don't care, do you? Nothing matters as long as you get what you want. I hope you're proud of yourselves."

They don't look proud of themselves at all. They look ashamed and sad.

Without warning, I feel a twinge of compassion inside me. But then I fiercely shove it down. They don't deserve it in the least. Why should I feel compassion for them when they didn't have any for Mum and Dad?

"Mum wasn't going to tell us what happened, so we tried talking to Dad. Course, he wouldn't tell us when he was sober, so we tried when he was drunk. And we got a _very_ interesting story."

It's getting dark by now. The shadows in the room are slowly getting longer.

"Dad told us that you summoned Death and asked him to kill 'God'. Not only that, but 'God' appeared and he was wearing a beige trenchcoat."

Now I'm really thirsty. Luckily, the kitchen isn't too far away, so I get up and head in that direction. "Don't go anywhere."

I get a glass of water and tip the cool liquid down my throat. Immediately I feel a lot better.

That's when the fear comes rushing back.

_What are you doing? What the hell are you __**doing**__? You're not like this._

I feel dizzy and sick. I close my eyes and take deep breaths until I've got myself under control.

It's too late to give in now.

They're still in their chairs, exactly where I left them.

"I didn't believe Dad at all," I say, sitting back down, "but my sister had a panic attack when she heard that description of 'God'. You see, she has a friend who goes to Our Lady of Serenity Church. That friend told her that the church was visited by God – who was wearing a beige trenchcoat. He also killed the reverend. But I'm guessing you already knew that."

**To be continued…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

**Warning for one use of language and unpleasant themes.**

"…_That friend told her that the church was visited by God – who was wearing a beige trenchcoat. He also killed the reverend. But I'm guessing you already knew that."_

Neither of them looks surprised.

"So, not only did you summon Death, you caused that thing to turn up at my parents' house. While they were there, tied to chairs and scared. Very well done."

Something inside is trying to reason with me, telling me that they didn't actually summon it, that they weren't responsible for that part, but I don't care. It turned up because of them. That's reason enough for me.

"That thing killed a lot of people. Religious leaders, priests, politicians…and you brought it to Mum and Dad's place. Don't you think you traumatised them enough? It could have turned on you! It could have killed everyone in that room – hell, _Death_ could have!"

All the anger and the hatred I feel towards these people is coming out of my mouth and there's nothing I can do to stop it. It's like there's a black knot twisting inside me.

"If all you wanted was that stupid _fucking_ crystal, why didn't you take it away and do your little ritual somewhere else? Mum and Dad are in the state they are because of _you_. Do you have any idea what it's like to see people you love in pain and be unable to help them?"

I'm not even thinking about what I'm saying. The words are like an acidic river and they're just coming out.

"I am so glad my sister wasn't home when you broke in. You'd probably have raped her."

Green Eyes almost leaps out of the chair. The only thing keeping him there are the zip ties and for a moment, I think he's going to snap them because he looks _furious_. He could probably do it, too. When I was moving him and his friend, I could feel how powerful their shoulders and arms are.

For one terrifying moment, I wonder what would happen if he _did_ snap the ties.

Floppy Hair looks devastated. He can't speak because of the gag, but his eyes say everything: _how could you even __**think **__we would do that?_

"We thought you'd done that to Mum. I mean that." I walk slowly over to the chair and sit down again. "I suppose you're wondering how I found you."

**To be continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Part Eight**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

_I walk slowly over to the chair and sit down again. "I suppose you're wondering how I found you."_

"Debra Weiss, please."

"And who shall I say is visiting?"

"Her daughter."

xxx

She was just sitting there, hands in her lap, her face blank. Her eyes were completely lifeless, her hair straggly and limp. She was almost as pale as the gown she was wearing.

"Mum." I reached out and put one of my hands on top of hers. Her skin was cold and bone-dry.

"I need my pills. I can't sleep without my pills."

"You overdosed on your pills, Mum. You overdosed again. You could have died, we only just got you there in time, don't you remember?"

She looked back at me. "I remember. I just want to forget. Just for one night. I'm…I'm still terrified they're going to appear again in our house."

"They're not, Mum. I promise."

"How do you know that? Your father had a shotgun and he couldn't stop that man."

xxx

I walked up to the nearest pillar and leaned against it, not caring if anyone could see me. The marble was so, so cold, but it didn't do anything to soothe the desperation I felt inside. In fact, I felt it changing, flickering into something else.

Anger.

"Hi there."

I spun around and saw a man in a check shirt standing just behind me. He had short, sandy hair and eyes as blue as a winter sky.

"My name's Al. And you look like you could use a coffee." He smiled.

**To be continued…**


	9. Chapter 9

**Part Nine**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

"_My name's Al. And you look like you could use a coffee." He smiled._

Al and I ended up in the small café that the institution kept for visitors. I somehow found myself pouring my heart out to him, despite the fact that we'd only just met. He reassured me that people used to vent to him all the time.

"So you're angry with them?"

"Yes. Very. They didn't hurt Mum and Dad physically, but their lives are still ruined. I just really wish they could see that, and that I could show them what my parents' lives are like now, because of them. They deserve a taste of their own medicine." I swallowed the last of my coffee.

"What if you could?"

I looked up, not sure if I'd heard him correctly. "Sorry?"

Al leaned in closer, keeping his eyes locked onto mine. "If you had the opportunity to confront those men and give them a taste of what your parents went through, would you do it?"

"I don't even know who they are. How can I confront them if I don't know who they are?"

He smiled at me again. "I can help you with that."

"What will it cost me? My soul?"

"No. It won't cost you anything."

I was still suspicious. "What are you getting out of this? And how will _I _know it's them?"

"Your parents will."

"I am not having Mum or Dad in the same room with them," I hissed. But then I remembered the drunken questioning session my sister and I had with Dad. Maybe another of those would work. "Could…could you get a picture of them?"

xxx

Two weeks later, I received a picture through the mail. On the back were written four simple words.

_Give them hell. Al_

xxx

"I still don't know who he was, or how he managed to find you. And to be honest, I really don't care. But Dad identified you from the picture Al sent and then another week later, I got this motel address. It looks to me like he's been watching you for a while."

They glance at each other. It's difficult because they're still back to back, but they still manage it.

I get up and resist the urge to stretch in front of them. "It's time for me to leave. The maid will turn up in the morning, so you'd better get comfortable. But I'd like to say one last thing before I go."

I step up to them and try to look them both in the eye. "If you ever go near my parents, or my sister, or my friends, or anyone else I know or love again, you'd better remember what my face looks like because it's the last thing you'll ever see. I will get two more fulgarite crystals _and shove them down your throats_. And that is a promise."

I leave the motel room and close the door behind me.

**To be continued…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Part Ten**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

Well, I hope you've learned your lesson.

Oh, of course you haven't. You're the Winchesters – you never really _learn_ anything, do you? You just keep making the same mistakes and decisions over and over again. Consider what just happened to be a little reminder that there are other people in the world and that they matter. I know that must come as a bit of a shock to you.

The reason I chose _her_ to deliver that reminder is that I knew for a fact you'd be alive at the end of it. She may have had some very harsh words for you, but apart from that one slap, she'd never hurt you. She doesn't have the heart for that. But there are others out there who won't be so nice if they ever find you.

Do you think that Tracy girl is the only person who's lost a loved one due to your actions? All right, Cole Trenton's father was a monster, but he could just as easily not have been. _Masses_ are dead because of you, your mistakes, your choices, your selfishness and your callousness and that number will keep getting larger.

Miss Weiss isn't the only person who might like to spend a little quality time with you. There's Roy and Joanne Masters, for instance. And Daniel McClellan. And Eunis McClay's family – you remember Mrs Tran's friend, don't you? The woman you murdered just to keep the prophet's location a secret? You're lucky I didn't leave you with _her_ daughter. She'd like nothing better than to stick a knife in your guts.

But sadly, the world needs you alive. For now, anyway. But when it doesn't you had better be careful, because the innocent blood you've shed is going to catch up with you. Just as the blood Azazel shed caught up with him.

You won't get away with murder forever.

It's funny, now I come to think of it, but she never thought to ask me what 'Al' is short for.

It's Alecto.

Goodbye, Winchesters. I look forward to our next encounter.

**To be continued…**


	11. Chapter 11

**Part Eleven**

I can't sleep. The black knot inside me is still there and it hurts.

Every time I try to fall asleep, I see them looking back at me with those soft, sad eyes.

No. They were the ones who did this to my parents. Mum and Dad are the ones I should feel sorry for, not them.

_They would not have hurt them._

I don't care. Green Eyes pointed Dad's shotgun at them.

_He would not have used it. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt them, and he never would have._

You don't know that. _They_ didn't know that. And besides, it doesn't make a difference. He tied them up, and he and his friends treated them like they weren't there. It doesn't matter if he _intended_ to hurt them. My parents are in the state they are now because of them. It's their _fault_.

I remember telling Green Eyes that he was repulsive, that he disgusted me. I didn't just tie up two helpless people; I assaulted one of them. If he's repulsive, what does that make me?

What am I becoming? I don't want to be this person.

_One day, you will see them again. They will apologise, ask you for forgiveness and you will give it freely._

You don't know that.

_**You**__ do._

**The End**

**Thanks for reading!**


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